Hakusho Medley
by YumeMori
Summary: Various pairings and characters based off weekly prompts.
1. How to Bake Cookies

**Disclaimer:** I claim no ownership of _Yu Yu Hakusho _for _Yu Yu Hakusho_ belongs to Togashi Yoshihiro, Shueisha, Viz Media, and Shounen. No profit or money of any kind is made from this fan-created story.**  
Title: **_How to Bake Cookies_  
**Pairing:** Urameshi Yuusuke/Yukimura Keiko  
**Rating:** T  
**Warnings:** Slight perverseness, light swearing, spoilers for the end of the manga.  
**Prompt:** Spice  
**Word Count: **690

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It had started out as any other normal experiment Keiko did on Yusuke. The only difference being that he was now older and more tolerant and open to some of the things she tried introducing to him. No longer did he grab her breasts or lift up her skirt or try to push her into streams when she managed to get him into an annoying mood, and thus she no longer had to slap him around as much. Instead he shrugged, pulled out a cigarette or was just honest about what he thought. She liked to think her slaps had something to do with his climb in maturity.

So when he said he enjoyed her cookies, a recipe her parents had been introduced to and were trying out, she took it on herself to teach him the recipe. Because, after all, knowing how to make only ramen _had_ to be unhealthy. Never mind the fact that he ran his own ramen stand/front for his business with demons.

Only she never expected for this to be the result...

"What the hell is up with this dough?" Yusuke asked.

The far too gooey dough was stuck to his fingers. With a disgusted expression, he tried picking it off only to end up flinging his fingers around trying to rid himself of it. The half-filled sheet of cookies was forgotten.

She sighed and rested her forehead in the palm of her hand. With Yusuke's help, her kitchen had been turned into a war-zone. When she claimed that he had some maturity, she meant in the perverted department. He found it funny to fling flour at her (never mind that she retaliated in much the same way). He had sniffed the vanilla bottle and claimed it smelled horrid, then tossed it over his shoulder, shattering it. The vanilla was still spilled on her floor. He did the same with most of the other spices she wanted to put in there. She was more than certain he put in a little _too_ much sugar.

Both looked over at her small oven when its timer dinged. Yusuke with dough all over his fingers, Keiko with fresh flour smeared across her forehead. Their first attempts at cookies were done, and she was dreading tasting them or even looking at them. She turned and open the oven, pulling out the sheet to reveal odd, misshapen creations that appeared to be hard. She grimaced and glared at Yusuke who only offered one of his cocky grins before going back to his attempt to remove the dough.

The earlier puddle of vanilla forgotten, she never realized what happened on her way to the table until it was too late. She went heels-over-head, cookies flying through the air, as her floor approached her butt far too fast. Her eyes and teeth clenched shut for the painful collision that never came, thanks to Yusuke's quicker demonic reflexes. Only she wished he didn't catch her the way he did. She just knew he had a perverted grin on his face -- years of knowing him allowed her to sense those things without ever having to see it.

Sticky gobs of dough were now covering her breasts, she was sure of it.

"Klutz much?" he joked before squeezing her breasts. "Though still squishy."

A dangerous tick developed in her eyebrow and right hand. "Urameshi Yusuke!" She deftly turned in his grip and slapped him. "Only you would still dare!"

"I'm not the klutz!" he defended himself, his cheek showing no sign of her slap thanks to his demonic healing.

He bent over and picked up one of the cookies, ignoring her still angry countenance. It was a learned behavior in his defense. He took a bite only to spit it right back out, "The hell kind of cookies you trying to teach me to make, you crazy woman! You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, hiding the dough that was covering her chest. "I'm not the one who didn't put any spices in it. You're trying to kill yourself, something I can't be surprised over!"

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_A version of this was written for the livejournal community yyh_contest's week #001 challenge._


	2. Of Books and Distance

**Disclaimer:** I claim no ownership of _Yu Yu Hakusho _for _Yu Yu Hakusho_ belongs to Togashi Yoshihiro, Shueisha, Viz Media, and Shounen. No profit or money of any kind is made from this fan-created story.**  
Title: **_Of Books and Distance_  
**Pairing:** Ayame/KoEnma (one-sided)  
**Rating:** K+  
**Warnings:** Slightly angst-y tone  
**Prompt:** Sunlight  
**Word Count: **597

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Ayame, being the special kind of spirit she was, relished every trip she was allowed to make outside the rooms of records. There were _many_ rooms, being that she was employed in the spirit realm. All the history, all the people, all the events (those that had happened, did not happen, and could happen) were enshrined among the rooms. Though she looked hardly older than twenty, save for the depths in her light eyes, she had been working for the spirit realm far longer than anyone else.

The lord Enma had thought her loyal and a good worker enough to give her such an honor. She was to be the one who maintained the records, who found them when requested. At the time, she had thought it an honor and quite a reward. Yet that had been hundreds upon hundreds of years ago.

She would not go so far as to call it a curse, though.

There were those few and far between times when she stepped out of those rooms and into the actual palace of the spirit world. She never lingered long outside; the sunlight was a harsh friend to her eyes too used to musty rooms and her skin too pale to take too much of its loving rays. Though, the sunlight was not the reason why she enjoyed her trips out... It was all because of one little god who had been calling on her knowledge.

The young KoEnma.

He was everything she could no longer be even though she was younger than he. He was able to interact with people, and, because he was a god, his young age kept him upbeat and fun. Her only friends had been books and scrolls and records of people she would never met, not even to ferry their souls, so she was reserved and quiet. She was sure she was quite ugly with her pale, sickly skin and common black hair. Her dark kimono did not help her looks either, she just knew as women often do.

Yet whenever he looked at her with those big sparkling brown eyes and spoke to her with kindness, she felt beautiful for that moment. She felt useful and needed, and she loved how open he was. Out of all the books she had read, she enjoyed him the most -- he was, after all, the most open book she knew.

She sighed and closed the record on Toguro Otouto that KoEnma had requested she bring him. "Will that be all, Lord KoEnma?"

He turned to look at her, his toddler form making his eyes shine bigger and brighter. She took his form as a sign of their friendship, very few employees of the spirit realm were trusted enough to see him in his young form. Though she couldn't be sure if it was gratitude or something deeper that she could only hope for and never name that was showing through his expression. It lasted barely a second before it was gone, a distant look upon his baby face that was tinged with longing. Perhaps the same expression painted her countenance as well.

"Yes, Ayame, that's all."

She bowed and left him to his thoughts, taking her own with her. One day, she had hopes, he would come by and visit her amongst her books and records and dust, lighting the stagnant air with the sun that clung to him. Though they were foolish hopes as he was to be the next ruler of the spirit realm, and she... She would forever be the spirit who kept the books.

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_A version of this was written for the livejournal community yyh_contest's week #002 challenge._


	3. Make Them Bleed

**Disclaimer:** I claim no ownership of _Yu Yu Hakusho _for _Yu Yu Hakusho_ belongs to Togashi Yoshihiro, Shueisha, Viz Media, and Shounen. No profit or money of any kind is made from this fan-created story.**  
Title: **_Make Them Bleed_  
**Character(s):** Hiei, Koorime  
**Rating:** Y for murderous thoughts and violence  
**Warnings:** Adult content -- Cursing, Gore, Violence, Thoughts of homicide  
**Prompt:** Murder  
**Word Count: **840**  
**

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It had taken a year, but Hiei had finally found those who had discarded him. His mother's people, the Ice Maidens. The Jagan had been a blessing, it proved every reason he had had it implanted all for this. The loss of his strength was a tough blow to weather, but he had done so and learned how to wield a sword in its place.

They would never know they were dead until they bleed to death in the snow. How he would make them bleed.

No one discarded him and lived. No one half-assed killing him and lived. No one told him whether or not he was fit to live based on his sex and lived.

If he happened to come across his mother, depending on her answers, she would bleed like the rest of them. He had lived enough in his abandonment to know certain things and to see certain things. Like mother's who kept their children and loved them. Had he a heart and not a demon nucleus, it would have been enough of a scene to warm it. Alas, he did not and instead their blood warmed his skin.

Was he jealous? Perhaps, but he would never admit to it. Jealousy implied insecurity; jealousy meant weakness. Hiei had no weaknesses and he had murdered many to get to that point. Now his last weakness that no one knew about was about to be slaughtered in the cold blood that they had dropped him over a cliff with. Only they dared call him by a name not his own: Forbidden Child. It was a title he did not want or need as sex was a cruel thing to discriminate against.

Now he was on their floating island, the reason it had taken him so long to find the damned thing. Finding a way up was another matter entirely and he dared not reveal it; rumors that he was fast enough to fly were much better stories to be passed around.

Up so high in the atmosphere made the perfect environment for such women. Snow and ice blew about the deserted village showing near white-out conditions. Their homes were drab and grey and hardly distinguishable from the snow that covered the ground. No one was out and it was such beautiful irony to him; there did exist something colder than cold women. He itched to show them that his sword was another thing colder, enough so to kill them.

Only one woman was out that he could see, their blue hair and clothing making them hard to see until it was too late. Hiei knew she was not who he was looking for and with no thought, no mercy, no pity, he drew his sword. The sound of it scraping against its scabbard went unheard over the howling winds and thin air, and she could not see as she was facing away.

He walked to her, his steps sure and solid as he was a murderer on a mission. He paused at her back, readying his sword to make the decapitating blow. She turned to face him, her face blank in the face of certain death and it made him pause. Her eyes were large and blank as if she was the same as the snow that flew about -- how could a woman be so cold? How could she stare so unnerved? He had killed so many before and their eyes all filled with fear and desire to plead for their lives.

Yet nothing, _absolutely nothing_, filled her eyes.

The blow was quick and painless, though bloody. She never blinked and her eyes still stared with the same look. He realized it now: they weren't cold, they were dead inside and out. And it gave him no satisfaction. He had wanted to descend upon their village and slaughter them as they screamed and begged for their lives. He wanted them to cry out their forgiveness as he denied it to them and wielded his sword like an unbiased weapon of judgment upon them all.

This, the killing of those doll-like women, gave him no such satisfaction. It made his anger lessen and his pity grow. Even her blood did nothing to warm him, instead it settled against his arm like icy needles. Then he realized, killing them would be a favor. He refused to believe he had been born of such cold women.

With only a sharp flick of his blade, splattering the blood on it against the snow, he trudged forward. He passed by houses having no desire to go in and murder all those within. They hadn't earned it. It took only a moment before he saw another woman, this one staring right at him. It unnerved him in ways he would never show. She was different as he came closer.

"Hello Hiei. I've been waiting for this day."

It was her face, he realized. She had emotion, she was waiting. She wanted death and his revenge would be to never give it to her.

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_A version of this was written for the livejournal community yyh_contest's week #004 challenge._


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